


The Art of Not Breathing

by anaraine



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 00:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12097182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/pseuds/anaraine
Summary: The Umbara campaign is thrown off course, courtesy of one, not-so-little "force hiccup".





	The Art of Not Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the glorious Iddy Iddy Bang Bang 2017! That should give you a hint that this fic is going to be ridiculous. And while the first chapter is basically gen with ship hints, the second chapter is a straight up Ahsoka/Clonepile orgy. Yes, that ship tag is correct. I'm telling you now so that you can hit the back button if this doesn't interest you.
> 
>  
> 
> ...also, the porn needs one last combover to make sure no one has sprouted a third arm or leg. It will be posted tomorrow, barring any emergencies.

Fives isn't surprised that Hardcase volunteers. Jesse's agreement is clearly based in his disgust at Krell's treatment of the 501st; Fives can work with that. Kix, as far as he can tell, is in favor of any plan that will prevent the most deaths. Fives' plan isn't a great one, but it is better than anything Krell has cooked up so far, and Kix knows it.

The other three he rounds up have barely managed to find time to paint 501st colors on their shiny armor, but he doesn't have the luxury of being picky. In some ways it's a relief. That Prim, Yaz, and CT-6946 feel strongly enough that Krell isn't doing right by them when they have barely have anything to compare it to? It's a bulwark against Rex's crushing disappointment. Because he's _wrong_. There's no honor in following a General who doesn't respect them. He's not asking to be praised for doing his job, but he doesn't intend to die for someone who won't even call him by _name_.

The hangar is quiet, save for a couple of men stacking and counting ordnance. He can't imagine they're doing it of their own volition, given that Jesse had been doing the same job not an hour ago. In which case, does Krell think their firepower is just going to walk off when they're not paying attention? There's a difference between counting their supplies and assigning scut jobs to men who should be resting for a suicidal assault on the capital.

Fives is still questioning Krell's motives when Hardcase freezes, rocking back on his heels instead of continuing on to the Umbaran starfighter. Fives looks past him to see a cloaked figure, hood drawn up in the fashion Jedi usually sport. Scuffed boots peek out from under their cloak, but their face remains in deep shadow even as they lift their head to glance around the hangar.

It's unnerving.

His fingers itch for his blaster, but he only knows who they are _not_. Not Krell, obviously—they're closer to the height of a clone than the hulking besalisk. Not General Skywalker, who would skip the cloak and check in with Rex before anything else. Not General Kenobi, who is busy fighting his own share of Umbarans. Not Commander Tano, who is a good head shorter and _also_ wouldn't bother with a cloak.

He's never formally met General Tiin, but his impression of the iktotchi Jedi was a bit taller and wider than their unknown - and any other guesses would be heading into wild and baseless speculation.

"Uh, sir?" Hardcase ventures tentatively, and Fives wants to swear when their head turns sharply to face him. Their face is still shadowed, but even _Fives_ can feel the intensity of their stare.

"Hardcase?" they ask, voice an indeterminate wobble that gives him no clues to their identity. But more alarming is the fact that they _know Hardcase's name_.

The tension in Hardcase's shoulders is easy for Fives to see, but his answering tone is light, even a bit breezy. "Yessir?"

There's a choked sound, something guttural that raises the hairs on the back of Fives' neck, and then he's blinking back afterimages as they disappear and reappear next to Hardcase.

Fives draws his blaster before he can think of why that might be a bad idea, and hears Kix or Jesse doing the same. He doesn't want to shoot when Hardcase might be in his line of fire, but—

Their unknown isn't doing anything but looking.

◊◊◊

Hardcase is regretting just about everything in his life that led up to this point. He doesn't know _what_ he did to deserve this, but it must have been awful. Because being the recipient of a stare that he can _feel_ but not _see_ is terrifying.

There's got to be some sort of mystic Jedi woo going on or something, because they're less than an arm's length away and he _still_ can't see anything beneath their hood. He can feel them though. Not only the strength of their gaze, but a soft sort of breath that fans his chin and makes him want to hold his own for fear of breathing on _them_.

He's trying not to hunch up like an unruly cadet, but the tension winding through his shoulders is going to leave his back aching. If he gets through this. They don't seem hostile, exactly? But neither can he place what they do feel like - except for dangerous. They are definitely dangerous. If they wanted him to be dead, he'd be dead. Which means that he's probably safe? Hardcase grows on people. If they don't immediately want to kill him, he's confident in his ability to win them over.

That knowledge doesn't stop him from flinching when they raise a hand to his brow, gloved thumb trailing down his face in a pattern that he belatedly realizes is his tattoo. They pause at the flinch, hand withdrawing slowly and giving him plenty of time to reach out and sandwich it between his own.

"Um," Hardcase says, as he stares at their hands and wonders what the hell he's done now. Because. That was not a well thought-out action. That was just a reaction, reaching for a touch that had been gentle and kind and definitely not what he'd been expecting.

The hand between his trembles. He looks up in vague horror as the tremble shakes their entire body, but just when he's gathering up the words to— apologize, or _something_ , they laugh.

They have a gorgeous laugh. Even hidden by their cloak, they laugh with their whole body, bright and happy. The fingers of their left hand have laced with his, and he holds on tight as they pull him closer to press a quick kiss to his cheek. While he's blinking in shock they've hooked their other arm around his neck, pulling him into an embrace that has him feeling warm down to his toes.

"I've missed you," they sigh, and _this_ time their voice is different. A little more feminine.

It still doesn't tell him who the fuck they are.

"Oh?" he asks, keeping the word light.

"Mmn," they say, and nuzzle into the side of his neck.

It's not— it's not sexual. If it was, he'd have a better idea of who they were. It feels more like curling up with a very large predator who's decided that you're better as a cuddle buddy than dinner. (Not that he's done that. More than once, anyways.)

"I didn't realize that this is what Master Yoda meant when he told us to rejoice for those who became one with the Force," they add, and while they sound content, the words send a shiver up Hardcase's spine.

"Isn't 'becoming one with the Force' what happens when a Jedi dies?"

"Anyone can become one with the Force, Hardcase," they chide gently. "As evidenced by the fact that you're here, too."

That was comforting in the same way a nexu was cute. Which is to say, _not at all_.

"I'm pretty sure I'd know if I was dead," Hardcase says, trying to keep his disagreement light and friendly. After all, they are in an excellent position to snap his neck if they got cranky.

"Mmn. Yeah, I don't feel very dead either," they muse absently. "But since I know you're dead, I must be too."

This conversation is not as morbid as it could be, so clearly he needs to ask, "How did I die, then?"

"On Umbara," they say.

Hardcase's blood runs cold.

The arm curled around his shoulders turns into corded durasteel. "Fucking _Krell_ ," they snarl.

That is a sentiment Hardcase can get behind, even if it is suddenly much more important to know the specifics of how he supposedly died. Will die. Something.

"Did he kill me, then?" He'd believe it. Just because Krell hasn't brought his lightsaber down on one of their necks _yet_ doesn't mean that he's not capable or willing.

"No," they say. "Well, not directly. You destroyed the Seppie supply ship, but died in the process."

Well. That's. That's certainly something.

"Did we take the capital?" he asks, throat gone dry.

" _Eventually_ ," they growl. "But not before finding out that Krell was deliberately sabotaging the war effort and trying to kill off as many of the 501st as he could."

" _What_?!"

◊◊◊

Kix shouts. He doesn't mean to. Hardcase has the complete attention of their mysterious Jedi, and he's pulling answers out of them in a way that's not arousing their suspicion or ire.

(He has a suspicion he knows who they are, even if it doesn't make any sense. But when it comes to Jedi, he feels that the less it makes sense the more likely it becomes.)

He's not afraid when they lift their cheek from Hardcase's shoulder. He might be a bit nervous, but if he's right...

"Kix?"

They don't give him time to answer. In the second it takes to blink, both they and Hardcase have traveled the distance across the hangar. Hardcase is looking a little green, letting go of their hand to clap his own to his mouth. It gives them complete freedom to tug Kix closer without letting go of Hardcase, and when he bends his neck to follow the pull, they drop a kiss to the the crown of his head, just between the apex of his lightning bolts.

If that isn't a clear indicator of their identity, he doesn't know what is.

"Commander," he says, sighing as she chivvies him closer.

She hums agreeably as he moves into her loose embrace, then says, "I haven't been called Commander in a long time."

"General, then?" He can't imagine she never made the rank. She's competent as she is now, and the form standing next to him is clearly both older and more experienced.

She snickers. "I was, for a little bit. I mostly go by Fulcrum now."

"As a rank, or a codename?"

"A bit of both," she admits. "It was too dangerous to go running around as Ahsoka Tano. But I suppose that doesn't matter so much, now that I'm dead."

"Wait, wait," Jesse says, moving close enough that Kix could reach out to touch him, if he wanted. It is immediately clear that Ahsoka would like him to be even closer in the way she nearly vibrates.

"Are you saying that you're the Commander? Our tiny little Commander," Jesse gestures with a hand, indicating the height that Ahsoka _should_ be at, "who is at this moment taking a bunch of tests at the Temple?"

"I wasn't that short," Ahsoka says, and Kix can hear the pout in her voice.

Jesse strangles a sound that may have been a scream.

"If you really are Ahsoka, then let us see your face," Fives challenges, stepping forward with posture so straight it looks like he's rammed a stick down his spine. It's not a good look on him.

What is shocking, however, is the way that Ahsoka melts, letting go of him and Hardcase to take a step in Fives' direction.

"Fives," she breathes, and there's something hurt and wounded in her voice that makes Kix wonder. If she still thinks she's dead, does that mean that in her future all of them are dead too?

She lifts her gloved hands to throw back her hood and then _charges_ , too fast to see until she's lifting Fives up in the air, his arms held tight to his sides as she hugs him hard enough to hurt.

"You asshole," she says as she lets him down, and Kix almost wants to laugh at the look of panic on his face. Almost, because it looks like Ahsoka might cry. However Fives died, Kix is starting to think it was particularly awful.

She throws her arms around Fives' shoulders and hugs him again, pressing her forehead into the curve of his neck and closing her eyes. The look of panic on Fives' face increases, but Kix is a little more concerned with his original outburst.

If Krell is really on a mission to get 501st men _killed_...

◊◊◊

Jesse doesn't know what to think. The Commander is a good one, and he'd take her over Krell any day of the week. Even this one, who seems to be a little scrambled by whatever Jedi nonsense is going down today.

But Jesse wouldn't have stuck Krell with the accusation of sabotaging the war effort. He figured he just hated clones. He isn't happy about it, of course, but it happens. The only thing that makes _this_ encounter different is that Fives had been willing to do something about it. He's an ARC, he's probably seen at least a little flight time before this. If Fives can get them up in the air, Jesse is still willing to accept the consequences of disobeying orders.

Though, Ahsoka's appearance might change that. She gets growly at the thought of Krell, she clearly _cares_...

Actually. "Don't I get a hug too?"

Kix punches him in the arm. Since they're both still wearing armor, it doesn't do much of anything.

Ahsoka's laugh is more of a watery giggle, but she lifts her head to smile at him. "Of course you get a hug, Jesse," she says, and—

Oh. That. That's a little startling, having that much force thrown at him faster than he can see. It feels good, though. Tiny Ahsoka gives good hugs, and Not-so-tiny Ahsoka hasn't changed in that respect. Strong enough to be felt through armor, but not so strong that it's pinching anything important. A hug that's solid and warm.

Jesse relaxes into it and wiggles his arms free to hug her back, which is more than he can say for the rest of these lumps.

Kix must have an idea of what he's thinking, because he cuffs him lightly upside the head.

"Hey," Jesse says in mild protest.

Ahsoka giggles again. This time, it doesn't sound nearly as teary. "I've missed you all so much."

It's nice to hear, even if it's a bit foreboding. But then again, while Ahsoka is of the belief that they're dead, Jesse is fairly confident that they aren't. Yet. And if she _knows_ how the war is going to play out... maybe they can just treat her like one giant, walking, talking vision. That's a common thing for Jedi, right? And General Skywalker would believe her even if no one else would.

"Well, I can't say we've had as much time to miss you as you have us, apparently," Jesse says.

Kix glares at him, but from the way Ahsoka is laughing again Jesse figures that he's done alright.

"That's okay," Ahsoka smiles, wide enough that it distorts the markings on her cheeks. "I'd rather you were happy together than missing me."

There's something about the way she says it that makes the hair raise on the back of his neck. Jesse wants to ask, _kriff_ does he want to ask, but he doesn't get the chance.

"Where's Echo?"

Shit. Shiiiiit. Jesse glances up to see Fives' face gone still and cold.

"Ahsoka," Kix says, and it's clear he doesn't know what to do with that question either, but he's giving it his best shot. "Echo died."

Ahsoka frowns. "I know he did. That's why I expected to see him here too, you know? And Tup. Unless they've _both_ exiled Fives from their beds and are having fun together."

Jesse... doesn't know what to do with that. Partially because Tiny Ahsoka has probably seen Tup, but he'd be surprised if she knew his name. (And not out of any maliciousness, either. Just that he was assigned to the 501st as she was being shipped back to the Temple.) Partially because he didn't know Fives and Tup were a thing. (But then. Maybe they aren't. _Yet_.)

"Yeah, about that," Hardcase drawls. "We're, uh, we're not dead, Commander."

She frowns a bit harder. "You can call me Ahsoka, you know."

"A- Ahsoka, then," he says, and he might be a braver man than Jesse as he repeats, "We're not dead. This is, uh, Umbara. So thanks for the tip."

The white marks on her face crease with doubt. "This can't be Umbara."

Hardcase rocks back on his heels. "Why not?"

"If this was Umbara, Rex would be here," she says, and the way she says it has... implications. Implications that Jesse should feel a bit naughty thinking about, frankly. The relationship between the Captain and their tiny Commander is none of his business.

Kix catches on faster than him. "Wait, is Rex still alive then?"

"He'd better be," Ahsoka says, and there's a hint of a growl in her voice that leaves her sounding more irked and frustrated than angry. "Provided Wolffe sat on him like usual."

"Commander Wolffe?" Jesse asks, and he's maybe a little bit delighted about this excellent piece of gossip. It doesn't matter that it's probably not accurate right now. _Gossip_.

Ahsoka shakes her head a little and smiles at him, "Not like that. Mostly he was angry at me for surviving when Master Plo didn't, I think. I'm pretty sure he believes I'm going to get Rex killed." She pauses, frowns. "I guess that's past tense, now? Wolffe _believed_ I was going to get Rex killed. Can't kill him if I'm the one who's dead."

Jesse very politely does not mention that if Rex is sharing space with _Wollfe_ instead of whatever remains of the 501st, he might very well try to avenge Not-so-tiny Ahsoka out of misplaced guilt or loyalty. Keeping his mouth shut is enough of a task that it keeps him from asking other questions. Like, oh, what did she mean when she survived something that General Koon didn't? And why would Wolffe be _angry_ about it?

"Well, let's go see the Captain then," Fives says, and there's something hard in his voice that Jesse understands, even if he doesn't like. He'd be a mess if Kix marched on before him.

Ahsoka glances at Fives, and then beyond him. "Are we leaving Prim, Yaz and Pincushion behind then?"

The shinies bolt to attention, which is cute. Wait— "Pincushion?" he asks. "You mean, CT-6946?"

She frowns at him. "Who else would I mean?"

The aforementioned CT-6946 coughs and says, "I, uh, haven't picked my name yet, sir."

Her frown deepens. "Umbara, you said?" she asks, turning to Hardcase.

"Yessir," he returns, casual and breezy again.

Ahsoka turns back to CT-6946 and says, "As far as I know, you picked up the name Pincushion at the end of the Umbara campaign. When you were trying so hard to get to Yaz that you had to be sedated, but supplies were low and nobody had any patches left over. Kix had to stick you with so much somaprin that someone mentioned you looked like a pincushion, and it stuck."

CT-6946 takes that with more grace than Jesse would've suspected. "Maybe I'll get to pick something else this time then, sir."

◊◊◊

It burns, realizing how much he's forgotten. Rex has met Jedi like Krell before. He should know how to handle it. How to duck his head and stand at attention with no more personality than a droid.

But he's stumbling like a first year cadet. It feels like he can't do _anything_ right. Can't keep the men quiet and moving, can't satisfy Krell enough to want to keep them alive.

He doesn't want to tell Fives that this is how the 501st functioned before Commander Skywalker had taken command and refused to let them go. He doesn't want to tell Kix that a twelve hour march is lightyears better than what Krell _could_ do with them.

There aren't many of the original 501st left.

Just Kano, and the dregs of the original Torrent company, who have taken to other units. Better for them to spread out, present less of a target. Not that General Skywalker was the one taking aim, but. The Force, maybe, which seems to have it out for them when they aren't under the protection of a Jedi that cared.

If he can just get his men _through_ this campaign, they'll return to the aegis of General Skywalker. Things will get _better_. He just has to—

The pneumatic doors slide open, and Rex dimly realizes that Fives and his so called pilots are back. Without the shinies, though; if Fives has left them behind to take the fall—

It's the fifth person that has Rex's thoughts skittering to the deep seas. She's. She's older in a way that is impossible. The white wings on her cheeks have stretched across her face as she's grown, and the marks along her brow have curled down in thicker lines to her eyes. The color of her lekku have deepened to a true 501st blue, bold chevrons crawling up to impressive montrals. Not as tall as General Ti's, but he has a feeling that she'll catch up with a few more years. Her akul tooth headdress is gone, replaced by a wider band of leatheris and fleximetal. It's probably better as a piece of armor, but he misses the teeth all the same.

Her name falls out of his mouth without his permission. "Ahsoka?"

She smiles, flashing teeth that are more pointed than her current set, and steps past Fives to crouch in a soldier's squat at his feet. It just about puts them at eye level, so long as he remains seated.

"I was kind of hoping they were wrong, you know," she says, and puts a gloved hand on his knee. The drape of her sleeve falls against his greaves, and he _knows_ he shouldn't be able to feel it through the plastoid, but he does all the same.

"Wrong about what?" Rex asks, not sure if he wants to look up at his men or not.

"I still sort of think I'm dead, you know?"

Rex most certainly does _not_ know, and the mere idea is enough to chill his blood.

"But if I'm dead, and this is the Force, then you should definitely not be here."

That hurts, actually. He hadn't realized that—

"Because _you_ should not be dead."

Wait. _What_?

"Sir?" Rex asks incredulously. On what planet would she be dead _before_ him?

"Which means that this probably _is_ Umbara, isn't it." It's less of a question and more of flat statement, with a curl of anger at the edges that is mildly concerning. She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a heavy sigh. "I would've liked to meet up with everyone in the Force, but I suppose I can lend a hand here first, hmn?"

She moves to stand, and Rex leans forward to grab her hand before she can step away. "Ahsoka, _wait_."

He's honestly surprised that she listens, raising her brow and letting him hold onto her hand with a grip that probably hurts, even through her gloves. He tries to work moisture into his suddenly dry throat. "What is going on?" he manages. It's not enough. It doesn't even begin to cover the questions he has.

"I don't know," she says candidly. "But I do know that fifteen years from now, the Umbara campaign still leaves you with screaming nightmares. And if killing that frog-faced piece of slime will prevent them, I'll do it with a smile on my face and a song in my heart."

Someone whistles, and Rex feels his cheeks burn. That's. A heavy declaration, considering who she is and what Rex was made for. He is stunned, and more than a little guiltily pleased. _See,_ whispers a voice that sounds disconcertingly like Fives. _We're not just another number. Not even you._

"Ahsoka, he's a General—" Rex says, and he doesn't know why he's arguing. Even if she wasn't his commander, he would still prefer her over Krell's casual cruelty.

Ahsoka grins. "If that's your only objection, then I was too, you know. General Tano and Commander Rex of the 332nd."

Any moisture he had managed to work into his throat disappears. "What?" he croaks.

"I think Skyguy was getting frustrated that you wouldn't take the promotion," she says, and there's a curl of laughter in her voice she can't suppress. "I basically swiped all of Torrent Company."

It is both hard to imagine and incredibly easy to see. Right now, when he desperately wants General Skywalker to return, he can't believe he would willingly leave his side. But the Commander is still growing into herself, and even as she is now, she's competent, kind, and a force to be reckoned with in a fight. He could easily see himself at her side in the not so distant future. He could see himself _making_ that choice, too, not just being reassigned to care for his General's former Padawan.

Still. "Krell is—"

Ahsoka's eyes harden in a way that is deeply reassuring. "Krell is a traitor to the Republic. I'd kill him for you, for Hardcase, for Jesse and Fives and Torrent and the entire 501st. But as far as anyone else is concerned, I don't need to. He's Fallen, and probably has been for some time. The casualty lists are him deliberately killing men to give the Seppies a better chance. He's been trying to attract Sith attention for some time."

And that. That hurts, to know that good men have died for no reason other than Krell's personal quest for power. That Fives was right, and he should've stood up sooner. Should've _known_. Should've _done something_.

Ahsoka's eyes soften, and she bends again to take his face in both hands, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, then his forehead, then the corner of each eye. He doesn't realize he's closed his eyes until she starts crooning, a sound so low that it vibrates in his chest.

"You couldn't have known," she says, and it's not a reassurance. More like... a statement of fact. "If Master Obi-Wan couldn't tell, then you didn't have a chance. Krell sabotaged the holo signals. Even if you had tried to get word out, it wouldn't have worked. It's not your fault."

But it _is_ his fault. His fault that he kept trying to work with the besalisk, kept trying to convince his men to get along with him. And maybe if he hadn't—

"If you had tried to fight him in earnest earlier, it would've resulted in a slaughter. You saved as many as you could, Rex. You were given no good choices and picked the one you thought would lead to the least deaths. You weren't wrong. When Fives, Jesse and Hardcase went up to destroy the supply ship—and they did, for the record—Krell became even nastier. Hardcase didn't survive, but Fives and Jesse were put in front of a firing squad. And when he couldn't muster the loyalty of the 501st to do the job, he sent you out to kill Umbarans who had stolen Clone armor. Except they weren't Umbarans. They were the 212th."

Rex doesn't realize for a long moment that he's the one making a low, hurt noise. He suddenly understands why the him fifteen years from now would remember this campaign so clearly. Just hearing the words, plain and simple, feels awful. He can't imagine what actually living through it would do to him.

◊◊◊

Dogma doesn't recognize the togruta that's walking between Fives and Hardcase, but he doesn't need to. If she had a valid reason for being here, she would be going to see General Krell, not Captain Rex. Jedi robes aren't anything special - she could be an Umbaran for all anyone knows!

He sends a comm to the General about his suspicions, and waits anxiously at the hangar bay doors after he gets a reply.

"What are you doing?" Tup asks curiously as he passes by.

Dogma doesn't get a chance to tell him. General Krell appears with a heavy frown on his face. "Well, Dogma? Where is this so called togruta Jedi?"

"Here, sir," Dogma says, and doesn't preen when the General calls him by name and claps a heavy hand on his shoulder, even if he does want to swell with pride. If the others would just _follow orders_ the General would be happy to call them by name.

Tup shoots him a glare that is almost disappointed, but he'll understand in time. Dogma leads their General to the barracks door and stands aside to let him enter first.

He is shocked when he enters, seeing Captain Rex on one of the low bunks, the mysterious togruta holding his face in her hands, thumbs against his cheeks and fingers tucked under his chin.

It. It almost looks like the Captain is _crying_ , which is all the more reason for Dogma to have comm'ed the General. If she's somehow... _destabilizing_ the troops so that their assault on the capital will fail...

"CT-7567, who is this person and why have you not reported their presence to me?" General Krell asks.

The togruta turns her head, and she looks _furious_. "His _name_ ," she says, blue eyes as cold as ice, "is _Rex_."

As she pulls her hands away from the Captain's face, his eyes open. The expression of hurt disappears as if it was never there, but Dogma isn't fooled. He can still see the glitter of tears on his eyelashes. She's _definitely_ done something.

"And who do you think you are?" General Krell asks, looking her up and down with a dismissive eye.

The cloak that drops from her shoulders reveals a scuffed set of armor that has clearly seen use on the battlefield. There are a pair of lightsabers at her hip, but that still doesn't mean anything. She could be a _Sith_ , which is even worse than an Umbaran.

"My name is Ahsoka. Ahsoka Tano."

That can't be true. Ahsoka Tano is General Skywalker's Padawan, and much younger than the togruta in the room. It's good to know that he reported an honestly suspicious person.

...he is a little surprised, though, that General Krell doesn't seem to recognize the name. Even if _this_ togruta is a liar, Commander Tano is a well known name throughout the GAR.

"And I know exactly who _you_ are, Pong Krell. A traitor to the Republic. A liar and a coward."

General Krell sneers. "Is that what this _clone_ has been telling you?"

" _Man_ ," she snaps back. "They are _men_. And every last one of them has more honor in one of their fingernails than you do in your whole body!"

"How dare you!" the General shouts, and brings forth his lightsabers with a crackle and hiss of plasma.

Dogma is expecting her to follow suit, but she thrusts an open palm through the air... and General Krell goes skyrocketing _through_ the doors and backwards into the hangar.

◊◊◊

Tup knows he doesn't really have the experience to know if General Krell is a good commanding officer or not, and that different Jedi have different styles of command... but General Skywalker just isn't as casually cruel as General Krell is. And if he can tell that with the little exposure he's had to the man, it must weigh even harder on the older members of the 501st.

It's why he turns his head when he sees Jesse giving a togruta female a hug. She's dressed like a Jedi - maybe they managed to call someone that would take a second look at what Krell is doing? It's a bit of a stretch, wasting Jedi resources like that, but if she came, then clearly _she_ thought they were worth listening too.

He leaves the hangar to see where their rations have ended up, and comes back to see Dogma waiting anxiously at the hangar bay doors. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach gives him a guess as to what Dogma's done, but he tries to give the other man some credit. He asks.

Dogma doesn't get to answer, but he also doesn't need to. General Krell is here and clearly displeased, though he deigns to call Dogma by name and follow him to the barracks where Rex and a good portion of Torrent Company have set up.

Tup itches to follow them in, especially when he catches a glance of the togruta Jedi leaning over Rex, but the pneumatic doors hiss closed and he figures he's lost his chance.

Right up until the doors are broken down by the weight of General Krell as he goes flying through the hangar to hit the opposite wall with a sick thud. The togruta Jedi appears in the broken doorway, surveying the damage before she sets her eyes on the General.

The smile that stretches her mouth is a fierce and fanged thing, and there is nothing kind behind her eyes. Tup is starting to wonder if he made a mistake in not reporting her presence. (Not that it would've done much good, clearly.)

She disappears in a blur of speed that his eyes can't track, and when he finds her again she's locked lightsabers with General Krell, her white against his blue and green.

He's dimly aware of other clone bodies coming out to watch, but each and every one of them are hesitating to give their General any support. It's a damning condemnation of his ability to inspire loyalty.

"Put your blaster down, Dogma," Captain Rex says, and there's something in his tone that is reassuring. Like he's been able to find his center again, or his own worth.

"That liar is fighting General Krell!" Dogma shouts back. "We owe him our support!"

"We don't owe him anything," Kix says, and Tup has never heard their medic sound so harsh.

"And she isn't a liar," Jesse adds in a voice that would be mild if you couldn't see the angry glitter of his eyes. "That is Ahsoka Tano. She's just had a little Force hiccup, so she's a bit older."

Tup doesn't know what the kriff a 'Force hiccup' means, but he can hear how the voices around him brighten, eager eyes turning to watch their beloved Commander whip the ass of the General that has been throwing them into the meat grinder of the war without support.

Clearly, Krell can sense it too. His face is a rictus of anger, bulging throat and eyes that no longer look like besalisk yellow, but like a _Sith_. They've locked lightsabers again, Ahsoka still smiling fiercely and no visible wounds, but Krell has two free hands. And one of them gestures in their direction.

Tup watches in mute horror as Dogma turns his blaster in his hands, and rests the barrel against his own chin.

"No!" Hardcase yells, and moves to wrestle the blaster free, but Krell's other hand gestures sharply and he goes flying. Fives intercepts him before he hits a wall, but their impact still looks like it hurts.

"Sir," Dogma says, and his voice is reedy and thin, arms trembling against the strain of fighting back.

Their commotion draws Ahsoka's attention, and she drops her lightsabers on the ground, hissing and cutting through the durasteel. She's just as fast as she was before, blurring into afterimages with a boom of sound to reappear before Dogma. In a matter of seconds she pulls the blaster free from his hands, holsters it in her own belt, shoves her shoulder into his armpit, and grabs hold of his hip as Dogma's legs collapse from underneath him.

It is very, very clear that she's the only thing holding him up.

"Sir, why?" Dogma asks, and yeah, he's a bit of a _bevik_ but he doesn't deserve this.

"Because you're inferior," Krell says, and while the words feel like a blow to Tup, they must feel even worse to Dogma, who flinches even further into Ahsoka's hold.

"Because you _fell_ for it," Krell says, and Tup wants to argue, but they really did, didn't they? If whatever 'Force hiccup' hadn't brought Ahsoka here, they _would_ have followed his orders.

"Oh, shut _up_ ," Ahsoka says. "I'd like to see you fight against someone who is literally messing with your head. Here, I'll even give you a chance to try. You're a magical princess who loves to dance, better twirl around in a circle to defeat me!"

This time, Tup watches in disbelief as Krell rises up onto one leg and does a dainty spin. He stops before he does a second turn, face dark with anger, but the damage is already done. The heaviness of Krell's words has lifted, and Tup can even spot a few lurking smiles on some of his brother's faces.

"You're an abusive sack of bantha _poodoo_ ," Ahsoka says, and her voice rings as clear as a bell in the hangar. "And frankly, you aren't worth the time it would take for me to piss on your bloated corpse."

Krell roars and dives to pick up her lightsabers. It seems like a smart move.

For about two seconds.

Krell's hands start to smoke, and he roars again - this time in _pain_.

"Funny thing," Ahsoka says, "There are a couple of ways to make lightsaber crystals bleed and turn red if you're a Sith. It's not required, you could just synthesize one that was red, but apparently you get extra bad guy cred if you make them bleed." She rolls her eyes. "But there's also away to purify lightsaber crystals. And once you do, they tend to get a little hissy if another Sith tries to hold them." Her smile is sharp and mean. "Guess what kind of crystals are in my lightsabers."

Krell's hands are blistering with large yellow pustules, distorting the skin in a way that looks grotesque. When he runs toward Ahsoka, is is clear that he's not thinking but _reacting_ , and not very well at that.

Ahsoka bends her knees and jumps, taking Dogma with her as she lands gently next to her forgotten lightsabers. One of them slaps into her palm while the other hooks gently on her belt, and when Krell turns around for another go, it's over.

Her lightsaber cuts through his neck like a knife through butter, head rolling away as his body flops like a bag of bacta onto the floor. Ahsoka disengages her lightsaber and returns it to her belt with a frown that is anything but satisfied.

Before Tup can do much of anything (not that he's sure _what_ to do, beyond trying to contact General Kenobi), Ahsoka turns her head to look at Dogma.

"Are you hurt?" she asks, and her voice is kind. Softer. She lifts her free hand to his chin and gently tilts his head up.

With the way Dogma's currently sagging against her, it almost looks like they're in one of the trashy holonovels that Tup's found lying around the _Resolute_. (Captain Rex had a funny look on his face when he asked who they belonged to, and told him that they were mostly Echo's.) It's an inappropriate thought, but he can't help but compare the images all the same.

Dogma hunches into her with a hurt sound, ducking his chin against her breastplate as he shakes his head no. It is with a bit of guilty pleasure that Tup watches Ahsoka lift him up and into her arms, Dogma's hands flailing before they found purchase in a hold around her neck.

"Did you find any extra rooms lying around this place," she asks, addressing Captain Rex with a wry grin and a nod towards the busted doors of... what had been his bunk, too. Damn.


End file.
